


At the End

by AubreyEtta



Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Angels are Dicks, But with The Walking Dead, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dean and Castiel Soul stuff, Dean's POV, Domestic Fluff, Kidfic, M/M, Survival, more to come... - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:32:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6112339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AubreyEtta/pseuds/AubreyEtta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester, widowed father of two, is trying to lead a normal life. But with the threat of a rapidly spreading virus, and the encounter of a particularly handsome fallen Angel, his life is far from normal. Follow Dean, Sam, and their family on a journey of love and survival as they race to find a cure for the virus that threatens to end the entire world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting at the End

**Author's Note:**

> This will all take place in Dean Winchester's POV. So, yeah, be prepared for that... 
> 
> Just FYI- I've got quite a bit stockpiled and ready to go, and will update semi regularly. 
> 
> Much love and thanks to: madeofspace for her beta work and hours long theory crafting conversations.

**Chapter 1: Meeting at the End**

“Lay off, Sammy,” Dean whispered loudly into his phone. After a few moments he huffed, “I have seen the news. I know what’s going on in Oregon. Yeah, I know it’s fishy, but what can I do from here? It isn’t our problem. If things go tits up, get to Bobby’s. You know that. I’m at the library with the boys. I have to go.”

Dean disconnected the call after a quick, “Love you too, Douche,” and looked around the spacious brightly colored room for his children. They were currently at the public library in the children’s section lounging in giant, overstuffed bean bag chairs and looking through books. He walked over. “Find anything you want to check out, boys?”

“This one,” Cody replied as he held up a copy of the third Harry Potter book. At seven, Cody was almost an exact replica of himself, with his sandy blonde hair, mossy green eyes and smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. However, Dean could see his mother in his smile. Cody was an advanced reader. Dean knew he could read the book on his own, but Cody and Dean had read the other two books together. Dean knew that he would enjoy reading this installment of the series with his older son too.

“Okay buddy, I’m real excited to see what happens in that! We’ll start it after dinner.” Of course, Dean knew what happened in the book, as he had read it before, but he would never tell his son that.

“Petey, did you find anything?” Dean asked his younger son. Peter was all his mother: dark hair and dark brown eyes with a quiet and peaceful nature. The boy was graced with his freckles and fair skin though.

He nodded and handed over a copy of The Lorax. Being only four years old, Dean knew that he would have to read it to the child, but he didn’t mind. The two bonded over books, and it was apart of their nightly bedtime routine.

He gathered up the books and walked to the checkout. Normally, he would breeze through the self checkout, but today the machines were out of order. Instead, he walked over to the librarian on duty.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” the man asked.

Dean looked up and proceeded to choke on his tongue. The man in front of him was striking. He had a messy mop of dark hair and dark lashes that framed the kindest ocean blue eyes he had ever seen. He didn’t even want to think about the scruffy five o’clock shadow on the man’s chin surrounding the full lips drawn into a grin. Dean cleared his throat when he saw the man cock his head to the side, as if confused, and said, “Sure did. Thanks.”

“Good. These are excellent choices.” He looked at the boys next to Dean and smiled. “You will have fun with these.”

Dean smiled with pride when his boys whispered their thanks.

“It is nice to see such well behaved children,” the man continued.

“Yeah, well, they’re rowdy and rambunctious kids at home. They know how to behave at the library though. It is something we do every Saturday morning. I haven’t noticed you around here before. Are you new?”

“I have been in Sioux Falls for almost two years. I moved here to fill in as head of the children’s library. I don’t usually work on Saturdays, however,” he said as he fiddled with his quirky Dr. Seuss tie.

“Hmmm, and we never come on weekdays. It would be easy to miss you then.”

The librarian nodded and smiled brightly. Dean’s breath caught at the sight. “Well, these are due in two weeks. I have stamped the due date inside the cover,” the man explained in a rough voice and their eyes locked.

“They will be back sooner than that,” Dean grinned, maintaining eye contact. He watched fascinated as a blush rose up the librarian’s neck and turned his ears pink. _Curious,_ Dean thought.

“Have a great afternoon,” the librarian coughed as he broke eye contact and looked down at the desk. 

Dean collected the books and touched the back of his hand lightly, catching the librarian’s attention. The dark haired man looked at Dean with wide eyes. “You too,” Dean said with a wink. He took the hands of his boys and walked out of the library. When he looked back, he saw the man at the front window watching him, hands in his pockets, his head tilted with a look of bewilderment on his face. Dean felt a tug somewhere behind his navel when their eyes locked briefly. He flashed the librarian a quick smile before he turned to buckle Peter into the Impala. When he was done, he turned and looked at the window again, but the man was gone. _Wish I had gotten his name,_ Dean thought absentmindedly.

 

&&&&

 

Over the next week, when Dean’s mind would wander, he’d think of the man at the library with the kind blue eyes. A shred of regret would pool in his stomach when he thought about how he had not  properly introduced himself. However, his life would get busy. The situation in Oregon had spread, and the librarian would be pushed to the back of his mind again.

One Friday evening almost a week after his first encounter with the sexy librarian, as he was dubbed in his head, Dean was graced with the rare opportunity to go grocery shopping without his boys. With what was happening in Oregon, and how quickly it was moving eastward, he decided to stockpile things that would keep, just in case. His sister-in-law, Charlie Bradbury, had taken the two kids to dinner and a movie, so Dean took the opportunity to run some errands. Once he was at the store, list in hand, he grabbed a cart and began maneuvering the produce section. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to check the text he had just received.

_Sam: Infected people have been spotted in Montana, Dean. It’s spreading._

_Dean: Grab Sarah and go to Bobby’s. Bring your non-perishables and whatever else._

_Dean: After I pick some things up, I’ll grab the boys and Charlie and meet you there._

_Dean: Call Bobby plz and bring up to speed._

_Sam: Come on, Dean_

_Dean: You’re the one texting about this. You know more. I’m @ the store. Will pick up more stuff._

_Sam: Dean?_

_Sam: Dean?_

_Dean: Go away, hurry. Bitch, if you are not @ Bobby’s in 2 days…_

Dean was so distracted while he was typing, he rammed into someone with his cart. “I’m so sorry!” he said. “I wasn’t paying attention.” Dean looked up and to his surprise, it was the librarian wearing a tan trench coat. 

“No problem whatsoever,” the man said softly. “No harm done.” The man looked up and his eyes widened.

“Still, I’m sorry. I guess that’s why you don’t text and drive. Or in this case, push a cart,” Dean said with a chuckle. Dean’s stomach heated when he heard the other man’s quiet laugh. “You’re the librarian, aren’t you?”

“I am. And you have two boys with good taste in books,” the man responded with a smile.

“I do,” Dean replied smiling back.

“Well, have a good evening,” the man said and moved to push his cart down the cereal aisle.

 _Stop him! Stop him! Hey fucker, stop him!_ his brain screamed at him, but all Dean could do was mutter a pathetic, “You too,” before moving toward the bananas. But, he couldn’t just let the librarian go. He abandoned his cart and followed after him.

“Wait,” Dean called.

The librarian turned around. “Yes?”

“Are you following what is happening in Oregon?”

“I had heard about it,” the other man said. “Why?”

“Do you have a few minutes, Mister-”

“Novak. Castiel Novak. And you are Dean Winchester.”

Dean looked shocked. “You psychic or something?”

“You checked out books,” the librarian answered simply, but his eyes shifted like he was hiding something.

“Dude, that was a while ago, and you still remember my name?”

“Your name is unique. Special. It stuck in my head. I thought it would make a good name for the protagonist in a mystery novel or perhaps a gunslinger in a western.”

Dean guffawed at that, which caused the man to grimace. “That is awesome! Your name sounds like you’d be one badass superhero, saving the world in an unassuming trench coat. Like Constantine.”

Relief spread across Castiel’s face when Dean let it go.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Castiel asked.

Dean looked around the busy supermarket. The cereal aisle wasn’t the place for what he was about to lay on Castiel. “Yeah, will you step outside for a minute?”

“Of course, Dean.”

Once outside, Dean turned to look at the other man. The tug that he felt when he first saw Castiel was there again. “The outbreak from Oregon that should have been contained, was reported _as_ contained, has been spotted in Montana. My brother has been following it.”

Castiel’s eyes grew wide. “This is it,” he whispered.

“This is what?” Dean asked.

“Dean, there is more going on than a viral outbreak. I need you to trust me. Do you have somewhere safe to go? Outside of town?” Castiel asked.

“Yes. My Uncle Bobby has Singer’s Salvage. We were going there after I stocked up on things here.”

“Good. I know of the place. I will meet you there. I have to go pick up my daughter. Get what you need, go home, and get your kids and things. Do not dawdle. Do not wait until morning.”

Dean looked at the man as if he’d grown a second head. “What are you going on about, man?”

“We don’t have the time, Dean. I will explain when we are all together. Call your brother and tell him to hurry.”

Dean nodded, but before he could turn back into the store, Castiel grabbed his hand. “I know I’m being vague, and I am sorry. It isn’t safe here. You know what I mean. I promise I _will_ explain,” he said as he pulled the top button of his shirt open to reveal an anti-possession tattoo over his heart, smaller than Dean’s own but no different in design. Next to it in a deep blue ink was another symbol- one that Dean did not recognize.

“You know who I am. What I was,” Dean whispered, eyes wide. Dean’s mother was killed by a demon with yellow eyes when he was four years old, and because of it, his father lived his life hunting that monster, leaving Dean to practically raise a six-month-old Sam. When Dean was fifteen years old, making Sam eleven, Dean’s father dropped them off at Bobby’s, another hunter, and never returned. Luckily, Bobby took the boys in. Dean kept looking for the demon, and when he was twenty, he killed the demon who had killed his mother when it came after his brother. Although Bobby still remained active in the hunters’ network, Dean refused to be a part of it. He never went hunting again, determined to give Sam as normal a life as possible. Sam graduated and attended Stanford on a full ride. Dean went to community college and then eventually the University of Sioux Falls where he met Lisa and started his own normal life.

“I will explain, but we have to hurry!” Castiel urged.

Dean nodded and rushed back inside to his cart. After he had filled it with canned goods, powdered milk, dry staples, and several unopened packages of socks, toilet paper and toothbrushes, he checked out.

Once at home, he didn’t unpack the Impala. Instead, he went into his garage and pulled down sleeping bags and a tent he used in the summer with the boys. He went inside and grabbed the four 72-hour packs he always had ready, and ran them out to the car. He may have been done with his previous life, but some things never changed. Like Sam monitoring the country for the unexplained, Dean was always prepared for the worst.

 


	2. Explanations at the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things become clear... sort of.

**Chapter 2: Explanations at the End**

Charlie pulled in the driveway just as Dean put the last of the perishables into a cooler. He closed the cooler, walked outside and secured it in the passenger seat of the Impala. “Hey Charlie, did you have fun?”

“Sure did. The boys loved the movie. They’re passed out in the backseat.”

“Good, don’t move them. We’re going to Bobby’s. The outbreak-”

“Say no more, dude,” she interrupted. “Can we stop by my place so I can grab some things?”

“Of course. I have a pack for you. Well it was Lisa’s. She’s gone but, you know, I’ve continued to maintain it.”

“Thanks. Let’s motor then,” Charlie said. “I’ll only need five minutes when we get there.”

“Cool, I’ll follow you.”

Charlie didn’t even turn off the engine when she pulled up to her neat corner townhouse. She ran inside, and Dean saw a light flicker on. He hummed absently with Led Zeppelin's  _Ramble On_  as he waited. It wasn’t long before Charlie emerged and began throwing things into the trunk of her car. “I have a couple of cases of water I’ll grab, and then we can go.”

“Cool, Char. Want me to get ‘em?” Dean asked.

“I got it. Just a sec.”

After she loaded up the rest of her gear, they left for Bobby’s. Dean followed Charlie closely as they drove the twenty minutes to Singer Salvage.

Bobby was out his back door by the time Dean was out of the Impala. “Did Sam call?” Dean called out to the older man.

“Yeah, you idjits should’ve come sooner. The boys will have to share, nothing I can do about that. Sam said he’d be here by morning.”

“Well, I have a friend coming with some explanations after he picks up his daughter.”

“Don’t know where we’ll put ‘em, but we’ll find a spot.”

“The girl can bunk with me,” Charlie said cheerfully. “Wherever I end up.”

“Charlie, you can take my bed with her. I’ll pull that camper up next to the house and sleep there. Castiel can crash there too,” Dean said as he pointed to an old Airstream camper. “Sam and Sarah will have to fend for themselves, I guess. Unless someone has a better idea.”

“Yeah, I can’t see Miss Priss sleeping anywhere but inside,” Bobby said snarkily. “They can have my room. I’ll take the pull out in the study. I sleep there more often than not anyway.”

Dean nodded. “The Impala is crammed full with stuff. We’ll put it away in the morning, and we can always go for more provisions before it gets too bad.” He turned toward Charlie’s car, opened Peter’s door and pulled him out to carry him upstairs. “Someone grab Cody please?”

Bobby grabbed Cody and they made their way upstairs. After they tucked the boys into the double bed, the two men stepped into the hallway.

“What do you know of this Castiel?” Bobby asked.

“I know that he’s kind, and he may know what’s going on. Fuck if I know why, but I trust him, Bobby,” Dean said emphatically. He’d barely had two interactions with the librarian for fucks sake, but there was something there that he couldn't quite pinpoint.

“Good enough for me,” Bobby said as he clasped Dean on the shoulder.

Dean’s head turned when he heard a car coming down the long driveway. “That must be Castiel,” Dean said. “Sam wouldn’t be here yet.”

Bobby nodded and they walked out the back door. A tan Crown Victoria pulled up next to the Impala. “Dean,” Castiel smiled in greeting as he exited the car. “You must be Mister Singer. Thank you for the use of your home.”

Castiel and Bobby shook hands. “Just Bobby is fine,” Bobby gruffed.

Castiel turned and looked at Charlie. “You must be the boys’ mother.”

Charlie busted up laughing. “I am nobody’s mother,” she said through a snicker. “Not even on The Sims.”

“This is Charlie, my sister-in-law. The boys’ mother is no longer with us.” Dean offered no further explanation. It wasn't the time or place to get into the past, especially when the future was so tenuous.

Castiel nodded. “My condolences.”

“Thanks. It was a long time ago,” Dean said with a small smile, grateful the librarian didn't get into it.

“My daughter, Emily, is asleep in the car. She’s thirteen. Is there anywhere I can put her?” Castiel asked politely.

Charlie smiled. “Hope you don’t mind if she stays with me. This house seems to be full of dudes. Us girls have to stick together.”

“Thank you. It has been just her and I for quite some time. I think she will be delighted to stay with you. If you can show me where it is, I can carry her up.”

“Up the stairs. First door on the right,” Bobby answered lowly.

Everyone separated to get things in order for the night. Dean pulled the camper up and unloaded sleeping bags for him and Castiel. Once he had set things where they’d be the most comfortable, he exited the camper. He didn't know if Castiel would even be comfortable sharing the space, but privacy wasn’t an option.

He ran into Castiel as he was headed inside the main house. “Dean, I know you’re not a hunter anymore, but we need to draw some sigils to ward this place.”

“From demons? This place should be warded to the teeth with salt lines and demon traps around the entire property. Bobby’s a little paranoid,” Dean said with a smirk.

“No, Dean, not from demons. Angels.”

“What the fuck, Cas? Angels don’t exist.”

“After everything else you’ve seen, you don’t believe in Angels?” Castiel asked incredulously.

“Good point. Okay, what’s going on?”

“After we are safe, Dean.” Castiel handed him a few cans of black-light spray paint and a piece of paper with an image. “One on every door in every room, and every side of the house on the outside. The paint dries clear, but is no less effective. I will do the perimeter of the property.”

Dean nodded. They broke up and Dean didn’t waste any time drawing the sigils. It wasn’t long before he was finished with the house. Bobby had seen him drawing it in the study and asked him what he was doing. When Dean showed him the drawing, Bobby went into research mode.

An hour later Dean was sitting on the steps to the Airstream waiting for Castiel to return. It wasn’t long before the other man sat down next to him.

“I promised you an explanation, Dean.”

“Yes, you did.” Dean waited for Castiel to gather his thoughts, and tried to ignore the press of the other man’s thigh against his own.

“I am going to warn you. It is going to sound farfetched.”

“Uh huh, just out with it already.”

“I am, or was, rather, an Angel of the Lord. I fell to Earth when I heard some of the other Angels talking about killing off the human race,” Castiel said quickly. “Mass genocide of every human to be exact.”

Dean looked at Castiel like he had grown a second head.

“The sigil I had you draw is an Enochian symbol that wards against Angels. We are hidden from them now. I don’t think they’re watching, however it is better to be safe than sorry. It would be ideal to get it tattooed on you.”

“I am no stranger to protection tattoos. The boys wear anti-possession amulets. We can get them Angel ones too. I’m sure you have Emily covered. What do you mean ‘you fell’?” Dean asked.

“I gave up my Angel grace for a human soul, Dean. I fell from Heaven to earth about twelve years ago.”

“How do you know me?” Dean asked.

“You made quite a stir when you killed Azazel, Dean. There’s nothing in Heaven or Hell that hasn’t heard of you.”

“Great, I’m a celebrity,” Dean said sarcastically and an eye roll. “Go on, Castiel.”

“However, there is more and I must preempt this by saying I had no knowledge of this until after the fact,” Castiel frowned and shifted his eyes downward, as if her were afraid of Dean’s reaction. “Angels who fall are extremely rare, as they need a soul. So they go to Joshua, who is the Gardener of Souls, of the Garden of Eden. Angels have to make their case to Joshua in order to receive a soul. And new souls are hard to come by as God isn't creating new ones. Anyway, I overheard the Angels plotting to wipe out humanity, and I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. So, I went to Joshua and argued my case. If I could watch the signs, maybe I could prevent the total destruction of humanity.”

“That’s noble, Castiel,” Dean offered.

“I am not finished yet,” Castiel said. “It was rumored that the last soul God created was a soul of a righteous man, someone who is pure and good. Joshua told me that you received that soul, Dean. When I went to Joshua and told him of my plan, he gave me a soul to replace my grace. Then I became human. My soul was cultivated from a shard of yours in the Garden in Heaven, Dean. Joshua informed me of this after the soul was placed. If I were to remove it, I would die.”

“What does that mean exactly?” Dean asked.

“Our souls are twin souls, Dean,” Castiel said, eyes downcast. “I did not come looking for you. I had no knowledge of you living in Sioux Falls when I moved here for the librarian job. I just wanted to get Emily out of Chicago, I swear. But now-”

“I believe you, Cas. Now what?” Dean interrupted trying to ease Castiel’s nervousness.

“Our souls have met. We are connected. It will be difficult to separate us,” Castiel said somberly. “I am sorry.”

“It wasn't intentional,” Dean said in way of forgiveness, looked at Castiel and chuckled. “It could be worse. At least you’re cute.”

“You are very attractive as well, Dean,” Castiel said shyly as a blush rose up his cheeks and he ducked his head. “I do not think it will become a compulsion. Just that we will want to be near one another. It would be easy enough to do as friends.”

Dean nodded and placed his hand on Castiel’s. The instant buzz he felt when their skin connected shocked Dean, and he caught Castiel’s bewildered expression. It was an interesting reaction, but it also wasn’t the time to dwell on it. “I have a feeling that we still have a lot of work to do. Let’s not complicate things and just take it one day at a time. Whatever happens, happens.”

“I can agree to that, Dean,” Castiel said with a grin as he turned his hand to press their palms together. He squeezed Dean’s hand lightly. Dean held back a moan as the mysterious buzz traveled up his arm only to pool in his stomach.

Dean laced his fingers with Castiel’s which caused the dark-haired man’s blush to deepen. _Interesting_ , Dean thought to himself. However, he felt like he needed to reassure the blue-eyed librarian, so he continued, “I will do everything in my power to keep everyone safe, that includes you and Emily now, Castiel. Though, if we can keep this whole Twin Souls thing under wraps for a while, if only until we figure it out ourselves, I’d appreciate it.”

“Yes Dean. That is a good idea,” Castiel said as he let go of Dean’s hand. “Let’s go talk to Bobby and Charlie and assign watches. I do not think we have to worry about infected just yet, but it would be a good idea to get used to a schedule.”

“Well, when you need to sleep, I have set you up in here with me,” Dean explained as he pointed into the Airstream.

Castiel nodded and thanked Dean quietly. The two men stood and walked inside. Bobby and Charlie were sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea.

“Just because we’re going off the grid, doesn’t mean we are giving up,” Dean said. “I’ll take first watch, then Castiel until six. Then Charlie until noon, and by that time Sam will be here and can take his turn. It will work out.”

“I have seeds that need to be planted immediately if we are to have a decent harvest,” Castiel said gravely.

“I can help, Castiel,” Charlie said quickly. “And the kids too.”

Castiel nodded and whispered his thanks, and Bobby pointed at a piece of land off of the house that would make a good garden. They talked further about adding a chicken coop, digging a root cellar, and maybe acquiring a dairy cow down the line, but for the night, they had a plan.

“I’ll start looking through my books to figure out what we are dealing with,” Bobby gruffed. “If it’s meant to wipe out the human race, something will be out there.”

Dean looked around the table, but locked eyes with Castiel and whispered, “One day at a time.”

The others around the table nodded gravely and went their separate ways.


	3. Bitter-Sweet at the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pivotal chapter in which Dean and Castiel experience loss.

**Chapter 3: Bitter-Sweet At the End**

 

It had been about a year since the Winchester group holed up at Singer Salvage, and their group had grown slightly. Sam and Sarah had been there since the beginning. Then, a short three weeks after Sam spotted the outbreak in Montana, it hit Sioux Falls and devastated the city. Sam, Dean and Castiel found Sheriff Jody Mills barricaded in a 7-11 while on a supply run shortly after. She was brought up to speed on what was going on. Fortunately, she was no stranger to the supernatural. She took to walking the perimeter of the salvage yard, checking the salt lines and wards in the evening while Castiel did the perimeter check after his watch shift ended early in the morning.

Charlie was a wiz with keeping the generators in working order and power running to the house, much to the surprise of Dean and Castiel. She said that electrical things just made sense. Emily was often found with Charlie, handing her tools and learning how the generators worked to keep the electricity running to the house. They had also begun drawing up plans for a wind turbine. Emily was a gifted artist and helped bring Charlie’s visions to life on paper.

Keeping ten people fed was difficult, but they managed. Dean and Sam often hunted for deer, elk and the occasional antelope, but after the infected moved into the area, fresh meat was harder to come by. Still, Dean set snare lines and went out to check them twice a day. Occasionally, he’d get lucky. The group ate well on those days.

Castiel managed to grow enough produce to can for the winter, though the harvest was sparse. Luckily, Bobby knew how to prepare and can the vegetables and was often seen in the kitchen, frilly apron on, and elbow deep in mason jars.

Castiel and Dean had little time to spend with one another. They were on opposite watch shifts, and Castiel was often in his garden whereas Dean was in the hills hunting with Sam. If Dean wasn’t hunting, he was with the children, Emily included, teaching survival skills alongside the more rudimentary lessons of reading, writing, and arithmetic.

Castiel and Dean _had_ become closer friends. Dean always woke Castiel for his watch shift after Dean finished his. It was a treasured part of Dean’s night, watching Castiel’s blue eyes drift open and focus in recognition. It was closely followed with a soft smile and a whispered, “Dean.” They would talk in those few minutes before Castiel went out for his watch and Dean bedded down for the night, usually taking up the space the other man had just vacated. Their talk was never anything deep or philosophical, but simply a mutual acknowledgement of how each of them was faring and what needed to happen in order to keep everyone safe. Still, Dean felt close to Castiel in those meager moments. And, Dean felt _something_ _else_ for the other man when he fell asleep surrounded by his intoxicating scent and lingered warmth.

Dean had closely considered Castiel’s explanation of their Twin Souls over the course of their year together. He also pondered the apparent evolution of the connection from their first meeting at the library to present day. Dean felt an undeniable attraction to the Angel, but how much of that _pull_ was a result of their weird soul thing and how much of it was _real_ ? And did it even really _matter_?

When an image of Castiel’s soft blue eyes and warm smile flickered across in his mind, Dean’s heart stuttered and he had his answer. Castiel was kind and _hot as hell_ . He had also become someone Dean could depend upon in the worst of times, of which there were plenty nowadays. But before he could make a move, Dean had to be certain that such an intimate relationship was something that both he and the Angel even wanted to pursue. And he simply _wasn’t sure_.

As it was, with the constant threat of death and endless watch cycles, there was really no opportunity to explore the situation as thoroughly as Dean would like.

Occasionally, an infected would wander through the perimeter. However because of the strict watch schedule, it was taken care of quickly and efficiently with a single bullet out of a silenced sniper rifle that everyone had trained on.

After a particularly explosive conversation with Castiel, Dean received permission to give Emily gun safety lessons. _She is not a child, Castiel!_ he’d argued emphatically. Dean was remorseful at Castiel’s defeated posture, but it was important, so Dean held his ground. The girl was often with the kids, and he wanted for her to be able to protect herself and the boys. Emily carried a small handgun on her at all times now, feeling safer having it available. Even Cody and Peter had access to small daggers, which they were thoroughly shown how to use safely, just in case.

The group was happy, fed, and safe.

Or so they thought.

It was late October, unseasonably warm for the time of year, when a herd of infected inevitably made their way onto Singer Salvage. The group had practiced what they would do if they suddenly became overrun- _get to the Airstream_ \- but nothing could have prepared them for the severity of the situation.

Dean was on the other side of the property checking snare lines with Sam. They heard the explosion as much as they felt it shake the ground, and broke out into a run. Sam’s long legs brought him to the house first, and he busted inside calling for his wife. Dean followed him just seconds later and looked for the children. The house was empty, except for Bobby, who was throwing books into a box. After Dean yelled at him to get out and quick, the older man growled at him to _fuck_ _off_ , _he_ _was_ _gettin’_ _goin’_.

Dean and Sam ran to the Airstream and found only Jody, Charlie and the kids.

“Where’s Sarah?” Sam yelled, panic apparent in his voice.

“Castiel?” Dean asked at the same time.

“She went to collect eggs just before all this happened. Cas ran in the direction of your snare lines. You must’ve missed him,” Charlie answered quietly.

Sam was noticeably freaking out now. “Let’s go get Sarah,” Dean said, hoping he sounded calm. He was much more worried about the woman then he was about Castiel. And, Dean was _fucking worried_ about Castiel. However, he’d seen Castiel against the infected, and knew he had been a general in Heaven’s army in his former life, so he could hold his own in a fight. Dean was confident in the Angel’s abilities as a graceful and deadly fighter.

Dean was hoping for the best for Sam’s sake. Sarah had barely begun adjusting and contributing to this lifestyle. Having been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, she had slipped into a deep depression shortly after the spread of the outbreak. After being forced to leave the comfort of a normal society, Sarah suddenly had nothing, and it had devastated her. If she was still in the chicken coop, she was likely already dead.  

It turned out that Sarah _was_ in the chicken coop when disaster struck, collecting eggs. She saw the infected on the property, and tried to hide inside the coop, but the noise of the chickens attracted the undead. The brothers followed the screams, but by the time Sam got there it was too late. Dean watched as his brother tried in vain to reach his wife, just as an infected bit into her jugular and ripped it open. Bright red blood sprayed over the man. Still, Sam tried to pull her to safety. It was all Dean could do to pull his brother out of the mob and around the coop. Sam fell to his knees, covered in the life blood of his wife, and watched wide-eyed as Sarah was completely devoured by the infected, along with most of the chickens.

“Sam! I’m sorry, but she’s gone! We have to go.” Dean shook his brother, trying to get him to look away from the bloody mess forming around the coop. The voice he heard next lightened his heart considerably.

“The house is taken,” Castiel whispered as he moved into Dean’s personal space to help with Sam. “I have Charlie, Jody and the children safe in the Airstream. I will cover you while you get Sam inside and the car hooked up. Bobby said he'd follow in the truck.”

Dean nodded, grabbed his brother, and started across the yard. He shoved Sam into the camper with a shout to Jody to watch him and went to hook up the Impala. Luckily, it didn't take long as he always parked the car as if he was getting ready to hook up the camper. When he was done, he hollered at Castiel who slid into the passenger seat of the car. Dean got in the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“Which way, Cas?” Dean asked as he reached across the bench seat and grabbed the man’s hand.

“The infected came from the west. I say we go east.” Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand.

“As good a direction as any.” He put the car in drive and began their journey into the unknown.

&&&&&

Dean drove until dusk. The men hadn’t talked much as they were both still processing the loss of their little safe haven. However, their fingers remained laced together, both needing the contact and comfort. Dean finally pulled up at a roadside motel that would've been considered seedy before the outbreak. Now, however, it looked like a secure enough place to stop and regroup. Dean needed to check on Sam.

He turned off the engine and cast a glance at Castiel. “We need to figure out what happened,” he told him.

“There was an explosion. At the start of the invasion, a generator inexplicably blew in the shop on the side of the property and caught fire would be my guess. The warmth and brightness of the flames drew the infected to the yard. I saw it happen from the garden and worked on getting everyone to safety, starting with the children as we had previously discussed, Dean.” Dean nodded at Castiel’s articulate explanation. “The hoard may be close or there may be infected here. I will check and set up a perimeter.”

“Without the salvage yard, we’re sitting ducks. And it’s going to get colder.”

“Focus on right now, Dean. We will figure everything else out,” Castiel whispered and he squeezed Dean’s right shoulder in comfort.

Dean drew in a deep, cleansing breath. “One day at a time, right Cas?”

“Yes, exactly,” Castiel replied with a small smile at their oft used adage. “Fortunately, you had the forethought to keep supplies in the camper, along with the bulk of the canned goods. That was smart thinking, Dean.” If they were overrun and had to escape quickly, they wouldn’t be _majorly fucked_ , as Dean had said when Castiel had noticed the jars appearing under the bed in the Airstream.

They exited the Impala and Dean watched as Castiel pulled a large triangular dagger, his Angel blade, from beside the seat. He nodded at Dean and walked toward the motel quietly, trench coat billowing up behind him.

Dean opened the Airstream door and was met with the barrel of a shotgun. “Sorry!” Charlie exclaimed when she realized who it was. “You forgot your code name!” She mercifully lowered the intimidating weapon.

“Fucking hell, Charlie! The Punisher! Okay? Everyone safe?”

Dean should have never let Charlie assign code names.

“There's something up with Sam, but everyone else is okay. Is Sarah with you?” she asked, peering past his shoulder to the darkness outside.

“Sarah didn’t make it,” Dean said quietly, and Charlie gasped in horror. “Sam saw it all. How is he?”

Dean entered the camper and saw that the boys were on the bed curled up asleep with Emily, so he kept quiet. On the other side of the camper, Sam was laid out on a blanket, his tall form curled in on itself. Jody was sitting near him, smoothing the hair on his forehead back absentmindedly.

“He's been bitten,” Jody said quietly, so as not to wake him. “But something odd has happened. Or rather, _not_ happened.”

Dean gave Jody a puzzled look.

“We've been driving most of the day, but there is no fever,” she explained. “He says it hurts like someone poured whiskey into the wound- which I did before I stitched it- but he isn't turning.”

Dean’s eyes widened. They'd encountered infected on supply runs and Jody had told them what happened if someone was bitten. However, it wasn't happening to Sam. He didn't know what to think about that, and muttered a quiet, “Thanks, Jody. Keep an eye on him?”

Jody simply nodded.

He didn't want to wake Sam, so he left to go talk to Castiel.

Dean found Castiel out by the front of the Impala. “I dispatched three infected but the area looks clear,” the Angel stated, eyes bright. “We should be safe for the night.”

Dean nodded as he walked to Castiel and pulled him into a platonic, yet desperate hug. The man went stiff in Dean’s arms, unsure of the sudden enveloping contact. Dean needed to feel close to someone and Castiel had become just about as close to someone as he could get. Dean felt the tension melt off of Castiel as he leaned into the comfort of the embrace.

“Sam was bitten,” Dean whispered into Castiel's shoulder after a few moments.

Castiel pulled back slightly, “Do you want me to take care of him or has Jody already done it?” His tone was steady, but soft.

“That's just it, Cas. He's not turning. The bite is healing. He's sleeping now, but there was no fever. He’s grieving for sure. He watched Sarah die and tried to rescue her. He must have been bitten before I could pull him out of the mob.”

“Dean, I am so sorry for Sam. The loss of a partner is tremendous. However, if he is healing, then he may somehow be immune to whatever is infecting humans.” Castiel paused, gaze lost in thought. “The infected are too far gone, but perhaps a vaccine could be synthesized to protect what is left of humanity from the virus,” Castiel mused.

“Are you saying that Sam may be the key to stopping this hell?”

“It is plausible,” he said plainly.

“Then we need to find somewhere safe we can do that. Preferably with someone who has knowledge of medicine. My history degree and your Master’s of Library Science are not going to be much use to us.” Castiel nodded in agreement.

Just then, Bobby pulled up in the truck. Castiel pulled away from Dean, squeezed his bicep in comfort again, and walked over to Bobby to bring him up to speed.

When he’d finished, Castiel returned to his spot beside Dean and leaned against the Impala. Dean grabbed his hand. Touching Castiel felt natural- _necessary_ \- whenever they were close to each other. “Bobby suggested we continue on eastward. Head toward the coast, and maybe find somewhere isolated to bunk for winter before the snows set in. I know that the southern Coastal states do not get as much snowfall,” Castiel said quietly. “He’s going to sleep in the truck.” 

“Georgia or Florida then? Somewhere with milder winter? It’s going to be tough. We’re going to need to loot on our way.”

Castiel nodded. “We have a plan. That is a good first step. Do you want first watch or do you need to sleep?”

“I don’t think I could sleep if you shot me full of Ambien, Castiel.”

Castiel nodded in understanding. “Since you are doing the bulk of the driving, I will let you take first watch, and I will take second. Then you should be well rested to begin driving again in the morning. I will just be in the backseat here if you need me. Wake me when you get tired, Dean.”

“Of course, Castiel. It’s my favorite part of the night.” Dean smiled, grateful that at least _that_ wasn’t going to change.

“Me too, Dean,” Castiel said softly. “Things may seem bad now, but remember that good things do happen. Even in a world such as this.”

Dean leaned over and kissed the other man’s cheek quickly, defying the nervous beat of his heart and the hot flush of his cheeks. “Good night. Tomorrow is another day.”

Castiel nodded and ducked his head as a similar blush spread across his cheeks. He opened the backdoor and after a whispered, “Good night, Dean,” he laid out in the backseat of the Impala. Dean kept watch, not venturing far from the Impala and his Angel sleeping in the backseat.    


	4. Vicissitude at the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Transitions, transitions, transitions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me trouble. 
> 
> My beta, madeofspace, is annoyed with me. She says she's not, but she has to be. 
> 
> The chapter just didn't feeeeel right. But, I think we fixed it.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

**CHAPTER 4: Vicissitude at the End** ****  


It was a harsh winter for the Winchester clan. After the salvage yard had been overrun, the group continued eastward toward the coast. Dean’s foresight in keeping the Airstream stocked lasted about a month on the road. So, whenever they’d get close to a rural town or suburban neighborhood, they would take the opportunity to replenish their supplies, if possible. They would park the caravan, and set up camp with a perimeter. Then Dean and Castiel would hike into the area searching and scavenging whatever they could find.

Dean had learned early on to stay off the interstate highways because they were often congested with abandoned vehicles, and it was hard to maneuver their caravan through. Instead, county roads and two lane highways were usually clear as they were less often travelled. He especially stayed out of cities. Where there had been many people before the outbreak, there were now many infected after.

It was slow going, made even slower by Sam’s routine disappearances shortly after the attack. After Sarah’s death, and the realization that he may be immune to the virus, Sam became a man possessed. He often went off on his own, staying away for days killing infected and looting, much to the annoyance of his brother and Bobby. Then about six weeks after they’d been on the road, Castiel sat Sam down for a talk, and the man stopped being so reckless. Dean couldn’t imagine what they had talked about, but Sam stayed around more and made it a habit to check in with Dean before he left camp.

Dean’s sudden whoop of excitement at the dilapidated sign that indicated the Georgia state line startled Castiel, who was staring passively out of the passenger seat window of the Impala.  

“Sorry, Buddy, I just have a good feeling about Georgia. We’re just that much closer to the coast.” Dean grinned over at Castiel. It wasn’t often that Castiel rode with him, choosing to stay in the camper with the children and Charlie. But today Sam had vacated his usual seat next to his brother, claiming he had a migraine, and had opted for a nap in the Airstream instead.

“Your optimism is refreshing,” Castiel snarked through a yawn.

“All we got is positive thinking, dude. And, hey, at least the weather is warmer,” Dean said as he rolled down his window.

“We also have each other,” Castiel shot back with a grin.

“There is that too,” Dean said with wink to the other man and an affectionate squeeze to his thigh. “You know I’ve never been to the Atlantic before?”

Castiel gave a quiet hum in response, and Dean smiled as he continued to drive for a few more hours in silence with Castiel dozing peacefully at his side.

**& &&&&&&**

It was late afternoon when Dean pulled over at an abandoned KOA off Highway 27 just southwest of Atlanta and parked the car.

Castiel startled awake when he felt the Impala come to a stop. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. I’m at about a quarter of a tank, and this looked about as good a place as any to stop.” Dean reached over and squeezed the other man’s shoulder and his voice dropped an octave when he asked, “Sleep well?”

“As well as could be expected,” Castiel replied with a soft smile for the other man. “Let’s check the area. Afterwards we’ll consult the atlas as to which towns would be good to scavenge.”

Castiel reached into the backseat and pulled out two handguns, an angel blade and the new angel sword that he had unexpectedly found in a picked over pawn shop in Indiana.

Dean’s mind wandered back to that fateful day two months ago.

_The group had been driving through southern Indiana when it was decided they needed to stop and replenish supplies._

_They pulled off at a rest area about three miles outside of Bedford. After they secured the area,  they cooked dinner over small camp stoves and bunked down for the night with Dean taking first watch. Since Castiel was going on the run, Jody took over at midnight. Sam had gone off on his own to hunt for game as soon as they parked._

_At first light, Castiel and Dean set off toward town and managed to get there in record time. The two men worked their way silently through the quiet neighborhoods to the town square, dispatching infected if the men couldn’t avoid them. They worked as a team, quietly and efficiently, only speaking when necessary._

_Dean went into the town’s small grocery store unhopeful, but managed to find the motherlode with six cans of off brand cream of mushroom soup. He grinned with Castiel as the other man held up a few cans of diced tomatoes and a bag of craisins. After scouring the store and coming up with a few more odds and ends, they left to see if any of the other stores that lined the square were worth searching._

_“Dean, I think we should check out that pawn shop, and then head back,” Castiel said with a pensive look as he cocked his head to the side._

_“I don’t know. It seems pretty sparse in there.” Dean could see the flipped over shelves and broken display cases from the street._

_“I just feel the need to check.”_

_“Okay, Cas. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some ammo or something,” Dean smiled at the other man._

_Castiel smiled back and went into the building. Dean headed for the back of the shop looking for anything that could be useful._

_“Not looking good here unless you were looking for a velvet painting of John Wayne. Too bad it’s too big to carry. Nothing else here is worth lugging back.” He jumped and pulled his gun out when he heard Castiel gasp. “Okay there, Cas?” Dean whispered._

_“Dean,” he whispered reverently._

_Dean walked to where Castiel was digging through a broken display case. All the guns were disassembled, but that wasn’t what made the man gasp. He was pulling out a blade, longer than the one he always carried in the sleeve of his trusty and ragged tan trench coat, but similar in the unique shape of the blade._

_“What is it?” Dean asked._

_Castiel pulled his blade out of his sleeve and held it up so Dean could see the long dagger. “This is an angel blade, Dean. It has the ability to kill lesser angels, Seraphim and fledglings. I was a Seraphim, a warrior to be exact, when I was amongst the Heavenly Host. Soldier Seraphim are given these as their weapons to use in war or training.” Dean nodded in encouragement. They hadn’t discussed their pasts with each other much and Dean was surprised Castiel was being so forthcoming with this information._

_“This however, is an angel sword,” he continued as he held the longer blade up to examine. “This is wielded by only the strongest and oldest of Angels. There were only ever four known angel swords belonging to the Archangels: Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, and Gabriel. It is only speculation, but after Lucifer was cast out and thrown into the pit, it was assumed that his sword was confiscated by my Father. It was never seen again. I cannot see the others parting with their swords, as they are still alive as far as I know. It is the only thing in known existence capable of destroying an Archangel. I believe the only thing it cannot kill is God.”_

_“So, you’re saying this is Lucifer’s sword?” Dean asked as he winced away from the blade._

_“Perhaps. That does not make it evil, Dean,” Castiel admonished. “I do not know how it came to be in this place, Divine Intervention perhaps, but I am grateful to have found it. It will be another level of protection for our group.”_

_“Well it is pretty,” Dean said with a smile. “And I can’t think of another Angel worthy of carrying it.”_

_“I am human now, Dean,” Castiel said rationally. “But I believe I understand your meaning. Thank you. I would like you to wield my angel blade now, though, as it is very powerful.”_

_Dean took the silver triple edged dagger from the other man and peered down the blade. “Was this yours in Heaven?”_

_“I cannot be sure as I could bring nothing corporeal with me from Heaven, but it feels familiar. I found it in an antique shop shortly after I fell. The owner did not know what he possessed as I only paid twenty-five dollars for it,” Castiel answered with a smile._

_“Thank you, Castiel, for trusting me with this,” Dean said seriously._

_“I do not trust anyone more than you, Dean. You might consider passing on your demon knife to Sam now. You do not need both.”_

_“I will, Cas,” Dean said and then laughed breaking the seriousness of the conversation. “We’re going to have to figure out how to craft you a scabbard now so you can carry it easily. It’s too big for your coat sleeve.”_

_“You as well, Dean,” Castiel said through a giddy laugh. “That is not a small blade, and it’s tricky to carry. You cannot have my coat. I am quite fond of it.”_

Dean was startled back to the present when Castiel bumped him while handing him his weapons. “Thanks, Cas,” he whispered as he tucked his favored pearl handled pistol into his back pocket and gripped the angel blade tightly. He watched as Castiel gripped his new sword, leaving behind the homemade scabbard that Charlie had crafted for him out of old seat belts and a pair of red leather pants she just happened to have. He tucked his own .45 into the waistband of his jeans before he opened the passenger door of the car.

“Ready?” Castiel asked simply.

“Conserve ammo,” Dean advised as he exited the car. However, he knew that the fallen Angel was much more comfortable with close combat, and wouldn’t shoot the gun unless absolutely necessary.

Castiel moved swiftly and quietly into the balmy spring day. Dean went in the opposite direction of the other man as they hunted down the infected in the area. It wasn't long before they met back up at the Impala.

“I ganked four,” Dean whispered as he turned to smile at the smaller man.

“Seven for me,” Castiel bragged. “We will have to be quiet, but it seems safe enough. I will let them know in the Airstream if you will inform Bobby and Jody in the truck to set up the traps.”

“Don't forget your code name,” Dean laughed quietly knowing that the other man thought, as he did, that the code name system was a bit ridiculous. However, Castiel didn't need to know that Dean had been the one to pick Castiel’s code name.

Castiel scowled as he walked toward the silver camper and Dean heard him mutter, “Constantine,” to the door. Dean smiled softly as he watched the door swing open. Castiel suddenly had an armful of not only his daughter but also Dean’s youngest son, Peter.

Castiel and Peter had similar quiet and pensive natures and became very close over their time together. In the evenings while Dean had watch, Castiel and Petey would have quiet conversations about all manner of things and Castiel would often read to the boy as he fell asleep. Dean was glad that his youngest shared such a connection with another person, and pushed down the pang of jealousy he felt at the obvious love the two shared. Dean wasn’t ashamed to admit he had a hard time connecting with the boy. Cody, on the other hand, he understood. He and Cody were two peas in a pod. But Peter was different, not that Dean loved him any less.

Cody pushed his way out of the camper and over to his father, “Hey dad!” he said softly.

“Hey kiddo, good job watching your volume,” Dean smiled and hugged his son. Dean had sat his boys down shortly after they were forced to hit the road and discussed how important it was for the group to try and be quiet. Cody really tried but, like Dean, he had a voice that carried, and he wasn’t always successful.

“Why don’t you go help your grandpa with the traps, and look for some good wood for a fire.” Cody smiled, pleased to have a job, and scampered off.

Sam walked over and grabbed a silenced rifle out of the back of the Impala. “We staying here a while?” he asked without maintaining eye contact as he checked the stock and bolt.

“Hopefully. We’ll try a week or so. We need to walk into town soon, but we’re okay for a few days. You good to come with Cas and me when we decide to go?”

“I should be,” Sam mumbled reservedly with a smile that never quite reached his eyes. “I’m going to go set snares. You get some rest. I slept most of the day, and I’ll be back in time to take your watch so you can get a decent night sleep for a change.”

“Thanks, Sammy, appreciate it. How are ya feeling?”

“I'm _fine,_ Dean,” he said forcefully, as he shot Dean a particularly nasty bitch face before he stormed off.

Dean rolled his eyes and turned to walk toward Castiel to see if he was okay watching the kids while he took a nap. Bobby caught him first. “We got the kids, you and Feathers go get some rest. I’m sure you need it.”

He grinned slyly and nodded. “Thanks Bobby.”

Bobby groused as he whacked Dean on the head. “Get out of here before I change my mind and make you watch your own damn kids!”  

Dean laughed heartily, and with a newfound spring in his step, he continued on toward the man. He slowed when he noticed the slight frown and sadness projected in the azure blue of the man’s eyes.

“Hey Cas. Everything okay?” Dean asked, the concern obvious in his voice, as he gripped the shorter man’s shoulder lightly.

“Yes Dean. Just a little disappointed. Emily went to draw. I had hoped to spend time with her,” Castiel said sullenly and patted Dean’s hand on his shoulder affectionately.

“That’s too bad. She was cooped up in the Airstream, which is no picnic with Cody bouncing off the walls, I’m sure. Next time we’re on the road, she can ride in the Impala with us. Sound good?”

“I would appreciate that, Dean. Thank you.” Castiel flashed Dean a shy smile.

“Well, Buddy, how about a nap? You didn’t sleep well on the drive no matter how much you pretended to,” Dean asked.

“That sounds amazing actually,” Castiel answered. “You’ll watch Emily for me?”

“Bobby’s got em,” Dean said lowly and guided him into the silver camper.

When Dean and Castiel first started using the Airstream as their apartment, Castiel came across the owner’s manual and promptly read it. When they were still getting to know each other, Castiel would sometimes recite a fact from the manual at random. One such fact was that the Airstream had the ability to sleep seven comfortably throughout the small and cramped space. However, instead of going off into one of these many separate designated sleeping areas, Dean steered Castiel toward the large bed in the back and followed closely behind. When they had crossed the threshold of the small room, he pulled Castiel flush against his body and reached behind himself to pull the pocket door closed.

“Let’s take a nap _together_ ,” he whispered quietly into the man’s ear. It wasn’t often that the men were afforded such privacy and Dean bit his lip in anticipation. He wasn’t going to let the opportunity Bobby had given him pass him by. He was going to finally make his move.

 _A long time coming,_ Dean thought to himself.

The pull that was there whenever he was in Castiel’s presence was vibrating inside his chest waiting for a response from the other man. It seemed like an eternity before the other man answered.

“Dean-,” Castiel began, confusion laced in his tone.

“Listen, Castiel, it feels like we haven’t had time for us even when it is just us. You’re on watch or I am or we’re scavenging, and it really isn’t sexy to work on our- whatever it is- when you have to worry about getting ganked. I must admit to pouncing on the idea when Bobby presented it. I am attracted to you.” Dean pulled away, squeezed the man’s hip, and began removing his jacket and weapons, not breaking eye contact.

“I understand. I had hoped-” the fallen Angel started, but shook his head and continued. “I am attracted to you as well, Dean,” Castiel said as he leaned into him. Dean moaned lowly as the breath danced along his earlobe.

Castiel sat and began removing his shoes, and Dean followed suit. Dean looked to Castiel, the heat in his eyes begging for something that he couldn't put into words. Castiel opened his mouth to say something, but before he got any words out, Dean’s mouth pressed gently against the Angel’s in a firm kiss. Dean felt Castiel’s whole body stiffen and began pulling away thinking he'd made a grave mistake about their relationship.

However, before he got too far Castiel caught his face between his warm hands. Seeing the heat in the Angel’s eyes that surely mirrored his own, Dean smiled triumphantly, and Castiel leaned in to kiss him back fiercely. Dean closed his eyes, surrendering to the electric sensation of the Angel’s mouth on his and the thrumming in his chest. He moaned low in the back of his throat as he felt Castiel’s tongue flick across his lips. Stars erupted behind Dean’s closed eyelids at the soft graze of teeth nibbling his bottom lip.  

Dean pushed Castiel onto his back on the mattress, straddled his narrow hips and moved his mouth down the column of the other man’s neck, like a man possessed. Castiel tugged Dean’s hair to pull him back up to his mouth.

“Fuck, Castiel,” Dean breathed huskily when he moved away for air. He rested his forehead against the other man’s, unwilling to move further away.

“Fuck, indeed,” Castiel panted. Dean growled at the swear word on the man’s lips and went for his mouth again.

Dean was disappointed when he had to pull away to yawn, and he rested his head on Castiel's shoulder. He purred like a kitten deep in his chest as Castiel began to run his fingers through the fringe of hair on the nape of Dean’s neck. Dean leaned into the touch, and then smiled at the quiet chuckle that emitted from Castiel. He felt the other man move him so they were laying next to each other face to face.

Dean tried to suppress another yawn and move in for another kiss, but Castiel stopped him. “Sleep, Dean. There will be time enough for kissing, now that I know you are receptive to the idea.”

“Awesome, roll over,” Dean muttered as he pulled Castiel into his arms and tucked him under his chin, making him the little spoon. It didn’t take long for the men to fall into a deep and peaceful sleep, wrapped in the comfort of each other.


	5. Alterations at the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel (and Sam) make new friends. Sort of.

**Chapter 5: Alterations at the End**

It was dark when the men were woken up by a loud knock on the door of the Airstream. “Dean, Castiel, I need you to both come out here, please,” Sam called loudly.

“We’ll be out in a bit, Sammy. Thanks for not barging in,” Dean yelled through a yawn.

Castiel sat up and stifled a yawn as he looked over at Dean. “Wonder what is going on,” he said quietly.

“We’ll never know unless we get out there,” Dean grinned, and leaned over for a quick kiss. After a moment, and before he lost himself in Castiel again, he went to pull his boots on. “That was the best kiss of my life, by the way.”

“The only kiss of my life, Dean,” Castiel admitted quietly. “And it was very enjoyable,” he added, a blush creeping into his cheeks.

Dean balked at the confession as he watched Castiel pull on his trench coat, strap his sword around his narrow waist, and buckle the seat belt clasp of his scabbard, all while trying to avoid eye contact.

“Castiel,” Dean began but couldn’t find any more words other than, “You are very good at it.”

Castiel smiled brightly, pecked Dean quickly on the cheek, leaving a bloom of crimson in the wake of his lips, and opened the pocket door. “Thank you, Dean. I will see you outside.”

Dean nodded and, after donning the rest of his clothes, followed the man out.

Once outside, Dean walked over to Sam to see what was up. However, before he could get any words out, he noticed that his extra tall brother wasn’t alone. With him was a short, curvy, fierce looking Nubian woman sporting well maintained dreadlock braids.

“Hello,” Castiel said quietly as he walked over to the woman. “Are you alright?”

The woman gave the blue eyed man a strange look. Before she could answer however, not that Dean thought she would, Sam began to speak. “I was setting snares and came across a road. An older man with a wicked looking prosthetic arm was leading her down the road with her wrists tied. I watched for a while, but heard enough to know that this lady here was in trouble. So, I stepped in--”

“I ain’t no damsel in distress,” the woman growled venomously.

“I never said you were,” Sam soothed. “May I finish now?”

The woman huffed, and nodded so Sam continued. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to, but the man fought back and I defended myself. He’s dead.”

“No big loss,” she said under her breath. “He was a piece of shit anyway.”

Dean chuckled and Sam continued as if he hadn’t heard her, “I told her that she was free to go, but after she retrieved her sword from her captor, and kicked him squarely in the head and the nuts for good measure, she followed me back here. I told her a bit about us- not everything-” Sam’s eyes darted to Castiel, “but some. Her name is Michonne and she’s wicked good with that sword.”

Dean nodded. “You’re welcome to stay, Michonne, but I must tell you that I won’t hesitate to kill you if you threaten me or mine.”

She nodded. “Fair ‘nough.”

“I’m Dean,” he said and then motioned to Castiel. “That’s Castiel. My kids Peter and Cody, along with Cas’ daughter, Emily, are around here with my friend Charlie. Bobby and Jody are over by the truck. You know the Samsquatch there.”

Michonne’s eyes flashed with humor at Dean’s good natured teasing, and nodded. “You have kids here?” she asked.

Dean nodded but Castiel answered. “Cody is nine, Peter is six. Emily is fourteen, and as I am told, not a child any longer.” He glared slightly in Dean’s direction.

Michonne smiled at that. “Yeah. My group has a Carl who is thirteen, but he is no child.”

“Why did you follow Sammy?” Dean asked, the curiosity evident in his tone.“You were free to go.”

“I come from a safe place. I wanted to offer him sanctuary for saving my life, but he said he wasn’t alone.”

Dean nodded and chuckled. “It isn’t one of those crazy cults, is it? You know, you think you’re safe, then - BAM!- suddenly _you_ are what’s for dinner?”

“No, nothin’ like that. Woodbury though, stay away from there. Lots of crazies. We’re just people trying to get by. I can’t promise anything, but in the mornin’ we can go and talk to Rick. We may be able to offer you a safe place. It isn’t up to me though,” Michonne said.

“Rick?” Dean asked.

“I guess you could call him our leader. He’s gotten us through some serious shit.”

“And you think Rick is going to be open to the idea of taking in strangers?”

“We’ve all been strangers once,” she answered simply. “He’s a good man, and he listens to the group.”

“Why take us in at all?” Castiel asked.

“Gotta trust folk, until they can’t be trusted. And, we need the numbers and firepower to protect what’s ours, what might become _yours_.”

“Gotcha,” Dean answered. “She’s on you, Sammy. Cas and I are going to walk the perimeter and find the kids.”

Sam nodded and Dean gestured to Castiel to follow him. When they were out of sight and earshot, Dean laced their fingers together. “What do you think, Cas?”

“My instincts say to trust her,” Castiel answered simply.

“Good enough for me. In the morning, you, Sam and I will escort Michonne back to where she came from and talk with this Rick,” Dean said huskily as he pressed his lips against the other man’s. Castiel didn’t hesitate this time to kiss him back.

When they returned to camp some time later, Dean noticed that Sam had set up the small four-person tent for Michonne and was offering her something to eat. Dean grinned, watching as Sam leaned into the pretty woman’s personal space to speak quietly to her, and she leaned in to better hear and respond. Dean also noticed that when Sam left to check the snares, Michonne went with him.

Michonne seemed wary of their group as a whole, watching the goings-on with suspicious eyes, but when it came to Sam, she seemed open and warm.

 _Curiouser and curiouser_ , Dean thought with a grin, and then mentally slapped himself in the face. _What the actual fuck, Dean! Curiouser and curiouser? Really!?_

**& &&&&&&&**

Early the next morning, Michonne led the Winchester brothers and their fallen Angel away from their camp at the KOA. After a few hours of walking, Michonne turned toward the men. “I was going to tell you to walk quietly, but I didn’t have to. You three are used to this aren’t you?”

Sam nodded as Castiel smiled. “Nothing gets past you,” Dean answered sarcastically.

“Asswipe,” she countered. “There it is.” She pointed on the horizon to show the men where they were going. On the horizon was a large penitentiary.

Dean winked at her, but his eyes widened as he saw the prison on the horizon. “We going there? Is that a prison?”

She nodded.

“I never in my wildest dreams imagined that I would try to get _into_ prison,” Dean joked.

Michonne smirked. “It's safe, walled--” Her eyes widened as she watched the first tower blow. “Or it was! Fuck!”

She ran off down the road, but Sam caught her quickly, lifted her around the middle like she weighed nothing. “Michonne, wait! Let's go through the forest to see what’s going on. Maybe we can do something on our end.”

She nodded reluctantly and took a deep breath to center herself. “No guns. There are a lot of walkers in these woods. Don’t want to draw attention.”  

“And that's not going to draw attention?” Dean asked sarcastically as he motioned to the burning tower.

“Dean, quit being a jerk. It isn't helpful. Michonne meant draw attention to _us._ We can get the jump on whatever is happening if we don't go in guns a-blazin’,” Sam admonished. “I know that’s your normal style, but just this once, keep the gun in your pants.”

Dean muttered something rude under his breath, but nodded as he drew his angel blade at the same time Castiel pulled out his sword and Sam unsheathed his knife. Michonne pulled her katana out and they moved swiftly, but quietly, through the forest.

Dean gasped as he caught sight of a military tank and a group of about ten people, one in an eye patch, shooting at the prison. He smiled when he realized that those in the prison were giving as good as they got- minus the tank.

“We can’t let him get in,” Michonne whispered.

“Who?” Sam asked her.

“That’s the Governor. He’s an evil, evil man. He wants me because I killed his daughter.” The men looked to her, eyes wide. “She was a walker,” she explained. “I’m also the reason he’s gotta wear that eyepatch. He tried to take advantage… I ain’t gonna lie. I want him dead.”

Dean only nodded. “Then he’s yours.”

“‘Preciate that,” she whispered.

“We will sneak around and flank them. Sam, do you have that grenade?”

Sam nodded and pulled it out of the pocket of his cargo pants. “I keep it on me whenever we go on runs. You never know-”

“Good, toss it down the barrel of the tank if you get a chance. That’ll cripple it. Michonne you gank the Governor. We’ll back ya up. Be safe and fight smart.” Dean said and looked at Castiel meaningfully. Castiel met his eyes with Dean’s and held it.

Michonne nodded and crouched down. She moved slowly and quietly, like a tiger about to pounce, around the other group. Luckily, the other group didn’t notice as they were too busy shooting at the prison. Dean and the others got into position to dispatch the people closest to them quietly and efficiently, and then moved toward the others.

“Cease fire, its Michonne!” a voice yelled from the prison. Dean knew they had but a split second to finish this.

Sam propelled his annoyingly long legs to the tank and tossed the grenade in at the same time Michonne ran her elegant katana through the neck of the Governor, decapitating him.

“Run,” Dean yelled. “Grenade in the tank!”

The four, and a single survivor of the Governor’s group, ran as fast as they could away from the tank. It wasn’t long before it exploded, effectively ending the conflict.

“Everyone okay?” Castiel asked.

“Still alive here, Cas,” Dean responded with a groan as Michonne and Sam nodded in the affirmative.

The gate to the prison creaked open and two men moved out. “Michonne?” a thick southern accent asked. “You okay?”

“Other than the ringin’ in my ears, I’m fine,” she replied.

Dean was still holding his bloody blade when he was suddenly faced with the business end of a crossbow.

“Put it down, Daryl,” the man Dean assumed was Rick ordered.

“Where’s Merle?” Daryl asked, his finger twitching at the trigger of his bow.

Before Sam could answer, Michonne put a hand on his arm to quiet him and responded with a simple, “Didn’t make it.”

Daryl looked distressed, but he lowered his bow and strutted behind the other man, like a hyped up hyena. Dean was sure that he'd be quick with that crossbow if things turned ugly.

“Everyone okay on your end?” Dean asked.

Rick only nodded. “Michonne?” he asked the woman.

“They’re decent folk,” she said simply.

Castiel and Dean shared a look, wondering what was going on.

“Rick Grimes,” the southern man said after he sized the three men up and stepped toward Dean with his hand extended in a handshake.

Dean took it as Castiel moved to stand at his shoulder and replied, “Dean Winchester.” He looked at the man identified as Daryl in confusion when he heard the man’s sharp intake of breath. “This is Castiel Novak and Sam, my brother.”

“How'd you come across Michonne?” Rick asked.

Again Sam went to talk, but Michonne beat him to it and told a truncated version of the story, changing it so an infected, instead of Sam, killed her captor.

Rick nodded and said, “Thank you. We’re partial to Michonne here. How many you got?”

“Nine,” Castiel answered. “Two children, a teenager, and three other adults.”

Daryl chose that moment to speak, “We have three questions before we let you into the prison.”

Dean nodded and waited.

“How many walkers have you killed?”

Dean shrugged. “Countless,” he answered as Castiel answered, “238.”

Dean chuckled and looked fondly at the blue-eyed man, “Castiel here is an odd duck.”

Sam remained quiet.

Rick nodded. “How many people have you killed?”

“Before the outbreak, one. After the outbreak, not including these here, three. To protect my family,” Dean answered not counting the people he had to kill because they were possessed by demons. Castiel remained quiet. He was as old as time and killed many people on order from God before he fell.

“Who’d you kill before?” Daryl snarled.

“I pulled the plug on my wife,” Dean said defensively. He heard Castiel’s sharp intake of breath and felt his warm hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

Sam looked up and exclaimed, “You didn’t kill Lisa, Dean! Cancer did.”

Dean put a hand up to quiet his brother, eyes not leaving Rick’s. “Not the time, Sammy. The third question?”

Sam nodded and closed his mouth.

Rick nodded again and looked at Daryl who gave only a slight incline of his head to show his approval. “You answered it- the why. We have a cell block we’ll help you clear.”

“If you let us in, we can clear it. No need to put yourselves at risk,” Castiel said diplomatically. “However, we have other things we should disclose before you make your decision. I would, however, like to get back to our camp before dark to relieve those on watch and tuck my daughter into bed.”

“Sounds serious,” Rick muttered.

Dean nodded. “We will tell you everything. Is it okay if we come in the morning?”

“Yes, that’ll give me time to prepare the council for your arrival.”

“Good. Look for a gorgeous black Impala pulling an Airstream camper followed by an old red International truck. We’ll be there shortly after breakfast.”

Michonne looked at Rick. “I’m going to go with them so they don’t get lost.”

“See ya in the morning then,” Rick said as he looked at her strangely. He glanced at the woman who was huddled close to the tree line. “She with you?”

“No, I believe she was with the Governor. However, I noticed she also never shot her rifle,” Castiel observed.

Rick nodded. “We’ll take her with us. Ask her the questions,” he said to Daryl. “She'll be safe enough.”

  
Dean nodded and the four turned and made their way back to the KOA.


	6. Confessions at the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family time, confessions, and explanations abound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, I've been distracted, and sword fighting a later chapter of this story. I'm back now...

**Chapter 6: Confessions at the End**

 

When Dean and the others returned to camp, he was grateful to see that everyone was still there, safe and sound. Dean couldn’t help but worry for his family when he was forced to be away from them. 

“Soup’s on,” he heard Charlie announce exuberantly as he went to store the weapons in the trunk of the Impala. “Kids are doing homework.”

“Thank you, Charlie. Any problems while we were away?” Castiel's deep, gravelly timber was making Dean’s stomach flip and his heart race deliciously. So, instead of joining Castiel, he observed from beside the car. 

Not having anything pressing to worry about, Dean’s mind wandered. Castiel had left off his trench coat, and Dean could see the soft lines and sharp angles that he hoped to be able to explore with his tongue very soon. His fingers itched to traverse the planes of Castiel’s body and pick up where they had left off before their nap in the Airstream. 

However, yesterday being Castiel’s first kiss, Dean knew he’d have to move their physical relationship along slowly. But Dean eagerly anticipated the sexual exploration with the sexy blue-eyed man. He knew when they finally did the deed, it would be glorious and beautiful, not only because of their souls, but because of the connection they were forging with each other. Dean knew he was quickly and completely falling for Castiel, if he hadn’t already, and it had nothing to do with the match of their souls. It was because the man was able to calm him with a touch, reassure him with only a few words, and set his body on fire with a simple look. 

He was brought out of his reverie when he saw Charlie shake her head and the object of his musing move off, probably to check on the kids.

Dean turned toward Michonne and observed the woman. She looked uncomfortable, but had come back with them anyway. Dean wasn’t an idiot. It was obvious that she trusted Sammy, but Dean needed to crack her shell open and help her become comfortable with his whole group, his family. It wasn’t going to work any other way. 

Dean walked over and knocked Michonne with his hip. “This is legit, right?”

She only nodded. 

“Why’d you come back with us?” Dean asked. “It’s because of Sammy, isn’t it?”

She simply shrugged at him.

“I’ve got your number, Chica,” Dean said with a teasing grin. “It’s because he’s ridiculously tall, isn’t it? He can reach things on the high shelf. Let ya know it’s raining, so your hair doesn’t get frizzy. You want to braid his long and luxurious hair. Maybe you think his bitchface is sexy.”

Her lips pursed as if she was trying to hold in a laugh. “Nerd,” she whispered when she could no longer control her chuckle. 

“Nah, that’s Charlie. Sometimes she recites Star Trek episodes around the campfire. My favorite is when she does the episode from Enterprise where Trip gets pregnant by an alien. Just to clarify, I’m the heartthrob of this group.”

She just rolled her eyes. 

“Shut the fuck up, idjit,” Bobby chided, rescuing her. “Everybody knows I’m the heartthrob here. Nobody can resist the beard and trucker hat combo.”

“Uh huh.” Dean’s joyful laughter rang loud.

Castiel walked over and handed Dean a bowl of beans and root vegetables and cocked his head to the side in confusion. “What’s going on?” he asked. 

“Bobby thinks he’s a heartthrob,” Dean said through his laughter. Castiel looked even more confused. “Means he thinks he’s the hot one of the group.”

“You are very handsome, Dean,” Castiel replied seriously as he sat down next to him. “I would think that you would be considered the heartthrob.”

“In your face, Bobby! Thanks, Babe.” Dean leaned toward Castiel, brushed his lips against his ear, and whispered huskily, “I think you have pretty eyes.” Dean winked at Michonne as her eyes grew large at the pet name and his display of affection, then added, “What? Cas and I have a profound bond,” as if the simplified statement explained the entire relationship.

“Goddamn finally,” Sam said as he handed Michonne a bowl. “They’ve been dancing around each other for  _ forever _ .”

“Not going to be a problem at the prison, is it?” Dean asked Michonne, suddenly serious.

“Who the fuck cares,” she answered. “As an outsider, I noticed that you two were close. You fight like a team, like true partners. You can’t beat that in this world.”

Dean nodded. “That Daryl dude  _ is _ going to have a problem with it, isn’t he?” 

“Probably,” she answered. “But it’s likely that he’s just jealous that you’re getting it on the regular.”

Castiel jumped in and his naive nature made the group laugh. “Getting what?”

“I’ll explain it to you later, Babe.” Dean kissed his cheek, turned to Michonne and gave her a blinding smile. “I’m not gettin’ anything, yet.”

_ Soon, hopefully _ , Dean internalized. _ But not yet _ .

“Well, he's sportin’ a pretty good beard rash just under his collar. So, I say you're getting  _ something,”  _ Michonne teased. Then her face turned serious, “What's his deal anyway?” she asked Dean as she motioned to Castiel.

“Ask him. I don’t speak for him,” Dean said. “Not my story to tell. Well, mostly not my story. I come in at the end.”

Not waiting for her to ask, Castiel replied, “I was an Angel of the Lord,” nonchalantly as he shoveled a spoonful of beans into his mouth. 

Michonne gasped. “Shut the fuck up.”

“No it's true,” Sam told her.

“Castiel: my sweet and adorable Angel of Thursday, badass general of Heaven’s Army, gave up his Angel juice and clipped his wings for a measly human soul to save humanity,” Dean proclaimed adoringly as he squeezed Castiel’s leg. 

Castiel pivoted in his seat and looked directly at Dean. His face was contorted in pain, and Dean knew he had fucked up. “My soul is great and beautiful and righteous, Dean. It pains me to hear you degrade it as anything less than that, as it reflects poorly on your own. Ponder for a minute: my soul was grown from yours. What does that mean?” 

Both Sam and Bobby nearly choked on their beans at that. Dean and Castiel had conveniently left out the whole Twin Souls thing when they had explained everything else. Both men opened their mouths to ask questions but stopped when Castiel continued, voice low and impassioned in tone. 

“My brothers and sisters started this, in essence,  _ because  _ they were jealous of the human soul. That's not measly. And, I would do it all over again just to have this time with you.”

“I know, Babe. I’m sorry,” Dean apologized. Sam gasped again. Dean never apologized. “No need to get all smitey,” he said with a chuckle.

“Quit making light of it, Dean!” Castiel growled angrily.

“I’m sorry, Castiel, truly,” Dean said seriously. “We’ll talk more later, okay?”

Castiel simply nodded, but Dean could still see the subtle spark of anger in his blue eyes.

Michonne’s eyes were large and round. “Heaven started all this bullshit?” she asked.

Castiel nodded, but Sam answered softly, “I’ll fill you in later, okay?”

She looked up at Sam and nodded, hiding a smirk. “You’d better, or else,” she motioned to her katana, and Sam just looked at her and winked. 

“What’s this about yer souls?” Bobby finally asked, looking between Castiel and Dean. 

Castiel looked at Bobby. “Angels have grace and it grants us the power of healing and immortality. Grace also gives us our wings, which I miss immensely,” he said nostalgically. “The equivalent to grace in humans is the soul. Human emotions are housed in the soul along with the spirit. However, most Angels are apathetic and unquestioning. When I decided that I needed to fall for the sake of humanity, I went to Joshua, the Keeper of the Garden, to bargain for a soul,” he explained seriously. “After much deliberation, he approved my petition.”

“So, what does this have to do with Dean?” Sam asked.

“Where grace is unique to the Angel, souls are recycled,” Castiel answered. “Meaning when someone dies, the soul is reborn into another. A new spirit, unique to every individual, fills the soul. Angels have spirits similar to humans, which is how I can remember my entire life span,” he clarified. “The soul houses the spirit, and imprints are left behind on it. In order to fall from Heaven without repercussions, Angels require an unrecycled soul, free of indentation. Such a pristine soul is rare, considering that my Father stopped creating new ones. As such, Joshua holds on to these few souls very tightly, and thus the likelihood of an Angel falling from Heaven and retaining their grace is nearly non-existent. Nor would they give it up willingly. 

“Dean’s soul is unique,” Castiel continued. “His is the last soul my Father ever created. My spirit filled the pristine soul I bargained from Joshua, and after it was placed in this vessel, the Keeper informed me that the soul had been cultivated from a shard of  _ that  _ soul. Dean’s soul.” Castiel turned to Dean, a glint of admiration in his eyes that drowned out the fury, and he continued softly, “We are two parts of a whole: twin souls.”

“So, you’re saying that there are a finite number of Angels, but the possibility for humanity is endless,” Sam deduced and smiled at Castiel's nod of affirmation. 

Bobby scrunched his face up, like he was thinking hard. “Vessel. You’re wearing someone’s meatsuit?”

“Jimmy Novak was in a motor vehicle accident and his spirit and soul had already been reaped and escorted to heaven when I was placed in his body. He is very happy in heaven with his wife who died on impact in the same accident. Angels do not have physical forms that humans can perceive, and I also had a very precious soul that needed to go somewhere,” Castiel replied defensively.

Dean looked pensive for a moment. “So, Emily?”

“Is Jimmy Novak’s daughter. She was just a year old when the accident occurred. She was in the car, but suffered only a broken arm as damage. When Jimmy- I- woke up from the coma, it was assumed that I would take the child home with me after I had recovered enough to be able to care for her. I was new to humanity. I absolutely had no idea what to do with a toddler.”

“Yeah, a toddler isn’t the best introduction to humanity,” Michonne laughed quietly.

“Indeed,” Castiel agreed. “But, we survived, and I love her dearly.”

“Well, family don’t end in blood,” Bobby gruffed and then motioned to Dean and Sam. “These knuckleheads don’t share a lick of blood with me, but nobody can’t say they ain’t my sons and those boys aren’t my grandkids. You did right not abandoning that girl. She’s precious to me too.”

“I will admit that I had every intention of leaving her, but then the nurse brought her in and I met her. My ability to read souls had not yet faded, and I saw that her soul was so bright, and contained very few shadows. I couldn’t leave her with anyone who might dim that light. So, I learned as I went and here we are. She  _ is _ my daughter.”

“Nobody is doubting that, Cas,” Dean said as he laced his fingers with Castiel’s. “You’re a wonderful father, not just to Emily, but to my boys as well.”

Before anyone could comment on the soul bond, the door to the Airstream opened and the kids emerged. “Hey Charlie, we finished our math, and I helped Peter with his reading. Can school be over now?” Emily hollered at the redhead by the fire.

“Sure, sweets. Come get some grub and sit with us. Meet Michonne.”

“She looks just like you,” Michonne said with a grin.

“Well genetically speaking, she is my daughter,” Castiel said seriously.

“Babe, she’s teasing you,” Dean said with a chuckle.

After the kids sat down with the adults, Dean went over the plan for what was going to happen in the morning. They discussed what to do at the prison: they were not to leave or get too comfortable as the other people there had to believe their story in order for them to be able to stay. 

When the instructions were done and everyone was just sitting around the fire visiting, Emily turned and looked at Dean. “So, do I call you Daddy Dean-o now?”

“If you want. Does that mean you approve?”

“If I didn’t would you leave Daddy alone?”

“Not a chance, Sweetheart.”

“Good. I know Daddy has been lonely. It’ll be good to see him less so. Also, less focused on me,” she said with a wink. “He adores you, Dee, you know. That’s hard to find out here.”

“Feeling is mutual.” Dean grinned back at the girl. He admired her sass. 

Emily sighed dramatically, “I’ll never have a boyfriend. All the boys my age are zombies. You're so lucky DD.”

“Who knows what can happen, Sweet Girl,” Dean said cryptically. “And let’s stick with Dee.” 

Dean turned and gave Emily his full attention. “So, tell me what your father was like before.”

Castiel made a face, but she softened the scowl with a hug and laughed. “When I was old enough to understand, Daddy told me what he was. I always knew he was a little weird, but I would have never guessed. I used to warn my teachers that he was autistic before parent-teacher conferences. You know Daddy, he’s intense and uber smart, so that’s intimidating. He never missed a conference, though.” Emily grinned fondly at her father. “You were a teacher, right?”

“Yep,” Dean answered.

“So you get it,” she said simply. “He was very involved.”

“Yeah, he would’ve been a pain in the ass. Second guessing lesson plans, and making sure my notes were historically accurate,” he laughed.

“Well I did watch it happen from Heaven, Dean,” Castiel said with a frown. 

Dean nodded and said, “Hey Cas, let’s go walk the perimeter.”

The men got up and without a word to the others, because none was needed, and they walked off toward the other side of the Airstream. Dean took that moment to collect his thoughts. Castiel seemed to be increasingly defensive toward Dean and he didn’t understand why.

They stopped when they were out of sight and earshot. “What’s going on Castiel?” Dean asked as he faced the other man.

“What do you mean?” Castiel looked up into Dean’s mossy green eyes.

“Are you not happy? You seem really defensive. I know my comments about our souls were crass, but I really didn’t mean anything by them.”

Castiel looked at Dean and tilted his head. He opened his mouth, took a deep breath as if to say something, but closed it again and shook his head. 

So, Dean started again. “A lot of great things could be on our horizon, Sweetheart. We could have a safe place again, somewhere protected. Somewhere we don’t have to constantly be on the run, and we can figure out how to save humanity. You and I don’t seem to be on the same page, and that can’t happen.”

“It all feels too good to be true, Dean,” Castiel finally answered.

“Someone once told me that good things  _ do  _ happen,” Dean responded pointedly, reinforcing something that Castiel himself had told him so long ago. “I am not saying that we let down our guard. But, we can’t let the good slip away by being paranoid about what could go wrong.”

Castiel nodded and took a deep breath. “You’re right, Dean. I am sorry.”

“No, Babe, I’m sorry. I made a joke of something really important to you- to us. What we have with each other is precious and what I did was wrong,” Dean sat down on a fallen tree that made up the southern border of their perimeter. “When you explained our Twin Souls to me so long ago, you said that our bond didn’t have to be anything more than a friendship. However, it feels so much more to me. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Try, Dean,” Castiel said simply as he sat next to him.

“Okay, well, I loved my wife. You know that. I would have given anything to keep her alive, but that was beyond my power. You are my best friend but it is so much more than that. You know more about me than anyone ever has. And you kiss like a goddamn master,” he added with a sideways grin. “You make me feel invincible and vulnerable at the same time. I never had that with Lisa. Sure, there was passion, but not this all consuming need I feel when I am even close to you. It’s why I cannot resist touching you whenever you are near. You ground me and start a fire in me all at once. It’s maddening and delicious and comforting. Ugh, I feel like I’m rambling.” 

Dean put his head in his hands, pressed his palms into his eyes, and tried to gather his scattered thoughts. 

“We have been dancing around each other since the beginning,” Dean continued. “But recently I jumped head first into this with you, and I regret nothing. However, I never stopped to ask you what you wanted. I assumed you wanted what I did, and that was wrong. We need to be on the same page in all things, Castiel. We can’t go into that prison tomorrow and not be anything but united.”

“Dean,” Castiel began. “Everything is changing so quickly. I am aeons old, so I’m used to having much more time to process everything. For instance, after my request was approved, I waited five hundred years for Joshua to cultivate my soul. You do not even want to know how long my siblings have been planning this virus. I first heard mentions of it in Heaven during the Middle Ages. I am trying, but you will have to bear with me.”

“That answers that then. I will back off,” Dean said with a curt nod. 

“No!” Castiel exclaimed quickly. “I absolutely do not want that. What our physical relationship is becoming is nothing short of miraculous. It is something that I never thought I would experience in all my human existence.” Castiel took a deep, shaking breath. “Can you feel our souls sing when we kiss? That can only get better as we explore that aspect of our relationship. I am just not used to the teasing. I have tried to ignore it. For example, you called me an ‘odd duck’ to Rick and Daryl. I do not like being different. I just don’t understand the idiosyncrasies of the human experience. And when you say things like that to people who do not know me, it feels as though I am not your equal and that you feel like you have to make excuses to people for me.” 

“I don’t mean anything by it. I find it endearing.”

“I know, Dean, but think about it from my perspective. When you asked Michonne if what we have is going to be a problem--” 

“Wait a second there, Castiel. You’re misinterpreting things. I only asked her if it was going to be a problem because I wanted to prepare for a fight if I had to. Sometimes people are backwards when it comes to this sort of relationship between two men. I love you, and I don’t want any ignorant bastards to ruin this. And I absolutely refuse to hide it. The only person who can make me give up on us is you. If you don’t want this, then I will back off and we will be friends. But, listening to you right now, I don’t think you want that.”

“No, but I don’t just want to be your consort either. I want to be your equal.”

“Everything is happening so quickly, and I will make a conscious effort to make sure that you’re standing beside me rather than pushing you behind me. We’re a team, you and I. But, you can’t just bottle everything up either. If you have a problem with me, most likely I have no clue. I’m dumb and make stupid jokes. Talk to me and I will try my best to fix it. I didn’t appreciate it when you blew up at me in front of everyone, especially since I was too obtuse to realize I was doing anything wrong. I know now, and I was completely in the wrong, but next time, let’s take a walk and talk it out, okay?”

“Agreed. I am sorry for berating you in front of everyone. It was not the best way to handle things.”

“No, it wasn’t. Also, if you have any questions about human idiosyncrasies, you only have to ask. I’ll explain the best I can.”

“I would appreciate that, Dean. When I became Jimmy Novak, I didn’t have much interaction with humanity. Jimmy was a research librarian in Chicago who only interacted with two other people everyday, other than his wife. Marge was in her sixties and Jasper wasn’t much younger, but they -we- became friends of sorts. I had Emily, and I tried with her. I signed her up for dance classes as a young girl and when her artistic abilities manifested, I found her an extracurricular painting and drawing class. Looking back, I believe that her art teacher was trying to get close to me, but I had no idea. I was very involved in Emily’s schooling. My life before you was very reclusive.”

“You’re a looker, Babe, and an attentive father. Women like that. I have no doubt she was hitting on you,” Dean laughed.    

“Are you laughing because you think I’m an idiot?” Castiel asked.

“Never, Honey. You’re not an idiot. Lots of people don’t recognise when they’re being hit on. That’s not exclusive to you. However, you’re going to have to lighten up some. Don’t take my laughter to heart. I’m laughing at the situation. I love you, I am not teasing you.”

“That’s the second time you’ve told me you love me.”

“Well I do.” Dean looked at Castiel and shrugged. Life was too short to hide his feelings, especially from someone with whom he shared a weird soul bond thingy. 

“I love you too, but--”

“No ‘buts’,” Dean interrupted. “We love each other. Let’s focus on that and let it ground us. If we keep our love central, then we’ll be more attuned to each other and maybe less likely to hurt one another.”

“Agreed, Dean,” Castiel replied. 

“Anything else you need to get off your chest?” Dean asked with a grin. “I know I feel better having things out in the open.”

Castiel stopped and thought for a moment. “Do you really think I am a good father?”

“I see you with our kids and I couldn’t have asked for anyone better. You’re protective, nurturing, and I can tell that you love them fiercely,” Dean answered honestly. “I couldn’t have survived so long without you, and the rest of our family."

Castiel radiated happiness. “Thank you, Dean. I do try. I know I was apprehensive about you training Emily with the gun, but you were right about that. This world is dangerous, and she should know how to protect herself.”

“Thank you for admitting that,” Dean said sincerely. 

“If only I could find a way to connect with Cody,” Castiel said in a far away voice. 

“It’ll happen,” Dean said with a smile. 

“I hope so.”    

“Anything else?” Dean asked.

Castiel shook his head to show he was done.

“Good talk, Babe,” Dean said with a rakish grin as he leaned toward him. “Now it’s time for the making up part.” 

“I thought we just did that,” Castiel said confused. 

“I’ll explain it to you later,” Dean whispered huskily as his mouth descended on Castiel’s in a bruising kiss. When Castiel hummed in Dean moaned low in his throat, as their souls met and danced with each other and melted into the warmth of the kiss.


	7. Amalgamation at the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester clan finds a new home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I refuse to apologize for how long it has been between updates. My summer has been much busier than I had anticipated. So many writing challenges, not enough time!
> 
> I hope some of you are still with me! 
> 
> P.S. There are sexy times at the end. You're welcome.

**Chapter 7: Amalgamation at the End**

The Winchester clan caravanned to the prison the next morning. The Impala led the way, pulling the Airstream, and Bobby followed in the truck. When they pulled up to the prison, Dean spotted Rick, Daryl and an older man on crutches- and with only one foot- he had yet to meet.

Daryl resumed his strut, and Dean rolled his eyes when he noticed that the crossbow was cocked and ready. 

Castiel, who was in his usual place at Dean’s side in the passenger seat, turned to Michonne in the backseat. “We have already established that we mean no harm. We come unarmed. Does Daryl have a problem?”

Michonne shrugged. “Honestly, Castiel, the dude’s a hothead. I’ll get out first and talk him down.”

Michonne opened the back door, but paused when Sam placed a hand on her arm. Dean raised an eyebrow at the silent conversation he witnessed in the rearview mirror between the woman and his brother. 

“Moving pretty quick there, bro,” Dean teased after the woman stepped out and shut the door. 

“Shut up, fuckwad, the window’s open.” Michonne shot Dean a glare over her shoulder.

Dean only laughed heartily. He squeezed Castiel’s hand on the seat next to him. “Warding this place is going to be torture, Dean,” Castiel groaned as he looked at the prison. 

“But worth it, right, Babe?” Dean asked and when Castiel nodded in the affirmative, he added, “Then we’ll do it together, along with Sam and Bobby. And I’m sure Ems and Charlie can take some of it. We’ll get it done.”

“Yeah, Castiel, you don’t have to do it alone,” Sam said from the backseat as he reached forward to squeeze his shoulder.

Dean looked over and noticed that Daryl’s crossbow was now on the ground. He heard an emphatic, “Just hear ‘em out!” from Michonne and smiled. She was sure to keep his brother on his toes. Michonne waved Dean and the others over and they stepped out of the Impala. Taking a collective deep breath, they steeled themselves for the talk. 

“Hello again, Rick. Daryl.” Dean nodded curtly at the second man. He turned toward the older man and extended his hand. “Dean Winchester, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hershel Greene, it is a pleasure for sure,” the man replied as he gripped Dean’s hand in a firm shake.

Dean motioned to the other men with him. “My brother Sam, and partner Castiel Novak. In the camper are my sons Cody and Peter, Castiel’s daughter Emily, and my friends Charlie and Jody. In the truck is our father, Bobby Singer. Thank you for taking the time to talk with us.”

“I’m sure it will be beneficial to both our groups,” Hershel said diplomatically. 

“Our group is in cell block C,” Rick explained. “If we come to an agreement, we will help you clear cell block B, which is next door. It has been cleared before, when we first moved in, but it may need to be cleaned up. You said you had to disclose some things to us before hand. What is it?” Rick asked sternly.

Dean deferred to his Angel. “Cas?”

Castiel opened his mouth, took a deep cleansing breath, and stepped in front of Dean. He stood motionless with his hands clasped behind his back, leaving him vulnerable and unthreatening. “I am a fallen Angel of the Lord, here to save and protect humanity,” he said with conviction. Hershel went to argue, but Castiel cut him off. He continued on with his story of falling, and the Angels’ plan to use the virus to kill off humanity completely. He spared no detail, save the one about his and Dean’s souls, which wasn’t relevant to the situation. 

Dean was watching Rick while Castiel spoke. He saw disbelief, then resolution flash across his face. He was expecting questions from Rick, as he seemed to be in charge, but it was Hershel that spoke. 

When Dean looked over, the older man was staring hard at Castiel. “When did you fall?”

Dean wanted to pat Castiel on the back for maintaining his non threatening stance and remaining neutral. “It has been approximately thirteen years since I became human.”

Dean knew the look in Daryl’s eyes. He’d seen it in his father’s eyes, hell even in his own eyes. It was that of a hunter looking for the easiest way to take out his prey. Dean stepped shoulder to shoulder with Castiel and shot Daryl a warning look. Daryl backed down. 

Castiel recognized the look too, and still his posture did not change, though his deep voice gained a sharp edge. “I am a peaceful man. However, I once was a General in Heaven’s Army, and at one time a protector of God, my father, himself. Humanity has not made me forget my combat skills. I am here to help save humanity, but I cannot do it alone. I will protect my family, and yours as long as we are together.” 

Hershel spoke up. “What do you need from us?”

“Safety. A place to set up a lab. Do any of you have any sort of medical knowledge?” Dean asked. 

“I was a Veterinarian,” Hershel answered. “And there’s Bob, who was a doctor in the Army before. Why?”

“Show ‘em, Sammy,” Dean said to his brother.

“But Dean, I haven’t even shown Michonne yet,” Sam whined as he shot his brother a bitchface. 

“Well, we will wait right here while you take your girlfriend out behind the Impala and show her your secret,” Dean said sarcastically. “Just show them, fuck. It’s awesome.”

“I’m a goddamn freak,” Sam growled as he started to unbutton his flannel outer shirt.  

“Yeah, yeah, we’re the weirdo Winchesters,” Dean said as he grinned at his brother. “We’ll set up a sideshow act.”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics. He took a deep breath and removed his t-shirt. On his shoulder was the original bite, but along his abdominals was also a long scratch that looked to be recently healed. Rick’s hand twitched to the revolver in its holster on his belt. Daryl crouched down in order to reach his crossbow. Castiel and Michonne both moved to stand between the two men and Sam. 

Dean gasped, not recognizing the new scratch, but Sam ignored him. “This one I got in October trying to save my wife from the infected,” Sam said as he pointed to the bite mark on his shoulder. “This scratch I got about six weeks ago while I was hunting. I seem to be immune to the virus.”

Hershel gasped. “That’s impossible!” 

Dean let out the breath that he didn't realize he was holding when Daryl and Rick relaxed their offensive postures.

“Yet, here he stands, unaffected,” Castiel replied. “He is the key.”

The older man completely ignored the topic of bites and scratches and pointed to the anti-possession tattoo on Sam’s chest, “Is that a satanic symbol?”

Dean and Castiel showed off their matching tattoos. Sam and Dean had matching anti possession symbols on their chests but had opted to have the Enochian symbol tattooed on their back instead, so they weren’t visible to the others. However, both of Castiel’s were visible. 

“This one is a Pagan symbol to protect against Demons, and this is an Enochian symbol to protect against Angels,” Castiel explained as he pointed to each tattoo. “If we are permitted to stay, we will be warding the prison and lands with both symbols for the safety of everyone.”

“I bet ya ten bucks Daryl has one too,” Dean stage whispered to Sam. Dean laughed to try to cut some tension. “We’ll make sure it’s not gaudy,” he joked. 

Daryl threw a glare Dean’s way and yelled, “What the fuck is everyone talkin’ ‘bout! This is all bullshit.” 

“Daryl!” Rick admonished. 

“Wait,” Dean said to Rick. “I want to know what his problem with us is exactly. I saw it yesterday too, after the incident with the governor.”

Rick addressed Daryl, “Well?”

“I knew another Winchester ‘bout five years back or so. He was a real asshole,” Daryl growled as he paced back and forth.

“Was his name John?” Sam asked softly.

Daryl glared in Sam’s direction and nodded once.

Dean spoke then, “That explains it. I don’t expect you to trust us right off, Daryl, but just know Sammy and me both know where you’re coming from. We may share genetic material with that man, but he is no relation to us. He left us with Bobby over fifteen years ago, and we haven’t seen him since, not that he was around much before then.”

Rick looked at Daryl. “Walk it off,” he ordered gently. “Think on it.” 

“But-” Daryl began, but threw up his hands and huffed off.

Sam pulled on his shirt again and brought attention back to his bites. “I don’t know how or why I am immune, only that I don’t turn when I am bitten or scratched. I don’t recommend you try it though. It hurts like a motherfucker when it happens.”

“I can attest to that,” Hershel muttered as he lifted the leg that was missing a foot. 

Sam nodded, “I am more than willing to donate any blood you need to work on synthesising a vaccine. We don’t have anyone that has any practical medical skills though. Dean was a high school history teacher, and I was a law student. Castiel was a librarian and even with his vast knowledge, he doesn’t know much about how to synthesize vaccines. Bobby specialized in research,” Sam added vaguely. “Charlie is a master electrician, and Jody was the sheriff in the city where we’re from.”

“Yeah,” Dean interrupted. “If you can use us, we’ll be of assistance.”

“I have a great many seeds. I saw you had started to till the earth,” Castiel said quietly. 

Rick nodded. “Let me talk with the others. You’re safe here. Michonne?”

The woman had been quiet throughout the entire exchange between the two groups. She looked at Rick and said simply, “They’re good people. And honest. If you send them away, I’ll be going with ‘em. So that’s my vote. They stay.”

Rick nodded, “I’ll go take the rest of the group’s vote. I’ll count Daryl’s as a ‘no’. Hershel?”

“Yes for me,” he said as he leaned heavily on his crutch. “My leg hurts, I’ll wait here.”

Rick nodded. “I’ll be back shortly.” 

Dean looked at Hershel. “Want to meet everyone else, sir?”

“I would,” the older man said simply. 

Dean watched as Sam took Michonne aside to speak privately.

“Dean, I will wait here with Mister Greene,” Castiel offered. “You go get everyone else. I would advise that you do not forget your code name.”

“Of course not, Babe,” Dean said with a wink. 

Hershel gasped, “Homosexuality is a sin! The Bible clearly states-” 

“Consider this,” Castiel interjected in a quiet, careful timber. Dean knew that he could hold his own, and smiled. “The Bible is a book that has been written by hundreds of humans  over two millennia, and then translated by hundreds more. It is not to be taken literally. My Father did inspire it, yes, but humans also injected their own opinions and interpretations. Was it on the tablets that Moses carried? No. So, it is not a direct commandment from my father. Love is love is love. It doesn’t matter where it comes from. I love Dean. He loves me. Our bond is profound...”

Castiel's voice died off as Dean approached the Airstream, and knocked on the door. 

“Punisher!”

The door opened and Cody threw himself at his father. “Hi, Dad!”

Dean returned the hug. “Cody, grab a chair and take it out to Cas. Use your manners and offer it to the older man out there. Cas will introduce you all. Be polite!” Dean said to his son and sent him off toward Castiel with a fold out chair. Cody was happy to help and went to do as his father bid. 

Dean then turned to Peter and pulled him into a hug too, and without a word, the boy hurried over to Castiel. Dean looked at Emily and opened his arms. She rolled her eyes but stepped into them and hugged him back. 

“What do you think, Dee?” Emily asked as Charlie and Jody squeezed behind her and watched as Castiel introduced everyone with Peter’s hand in his own. 

“It’s looking pretty good. Infected on the fence, but those would be easy to take care of. Looks pretty secure. Space for a garden, that’ll make your dad happy. He’s going to start nagging me to build bee boxes soon,” Dean told Emily with a grin. 

“You should just do it. It would make a nice surprise,” Emily said with a grin and they returned to her father’s side. Dean stood close to Castiel, but kept his hands to himself.

“Your son kindly brought me a chair,” Hershel said. “Thank you.” 

Dean smiled at the man and nodded. He looked at Castiel, “We good?” he asked referring to the talk the Angel had with the older gentleman. 

“I gave him some things to think on, but I believe we are okay,” Castiel said with a small grin.

“I did say that I refuse to hide, but we won't flaunt it either, Babe,” Dean whispered. “Doesn't mean I love you any less.”

“I know, Dean. I love you too,” Castiel whispered back and turned toward Emily. “Do you see anything you would like to paint?”

“It  _ is _ pretty here,” she hedged. 

They milled around for about fifteen minutes before the door Rick disappeared into opened and a group of people emerged. Dean gathered his group and waited for the verdict. 

“It was unanimous, besides Daryl-” Rick started.

“So not unanimous,” an Asian man said good-naturedly. 

Rick rolled his eyes. “The smartass is Glenn, his wife Maggie, Hershel’s older daughter. His younger daughter, Beth. Then there’s Carol, Bob, Sasha, Tyreese, my son Carl. Tara, the one from the Governor’s group, is sleeping off her shock. Judith,my baby, is napping at the moment.”

“Pleased to meet y’all,” Dean said as he introduced everyone in his group. 

“Cell block B is right over there. Glenn, Maggie, and I will help you clear it. Then everyone will pitch in to clean things up,” Rick said with a smile. 

“I will go get our weapons,” Castiel said as he walked toward the Impala and popped the trunk. He pulled out his sword and clicked it on. He walked over to Dean and handed him the dagger. “Sam, Michonne,” Castiel called out to the two. “Are you going to be able to help us clear or are you going to make moon eyes at each other all day?”

Dean guffawed at that. 

“My brother is a bad influence on you, Castiel,” Sam grumbled as he took his dagger from him. 

Castiel simply shrugged as he handed Michonne her katana. 

Rick and Dean led the way to the cell block, but unfortunately, it wasn’t as clear as Dean had hoped. A small group of infected had worked their way into the cells and were milling their way looking for food. The group was efficient in taking out the group. 

Castiel moved ahead to see from where the infected were getting in. He found the problem area in the back, near the kitchen. A dock door had been left cracked, allowing the infected to wander in. They sealed it, and after a thorough sweep of the entire cell block twice over, the group declared the area cleared. 

“Hey Rick,” Charlie said when they found the generator and utilities room. Charlie grinned like a cat that caught the mouse. 

“Yeah,” he answered. 

“Do you have hot water up in your block?”

“Unfortunately, no. The water runs, but we try to conserve because we don’t know why or how we have running water. And it’s pretty damn cold.”

“I can fix that,” Charlie said simply. “Hey Deano, hand me your lighter.”

Dean tossed her the zippo he had been carrying since he was ten years old. She bent down and laid on the ground in front of a large machine. She flipped the lighter until she had a flame and reached it under the machine. “Yes! Take that bitches!” she exclaimed.

“What did she just do?” Rick asked Dean. Dean only shrugged. 

“That was super easy. I just relit the motherfucking pilot. I noticed the propane tanks and took a shot. I rock!” Charlie said as she strutted like a peacock. “I call first shower!”

Glenn started laughing and it didn’t take long for the rest of the group to join in. “That was so stupidly easy,” he said between gasps. “We have been here for months suffering in cold showers when the fix was that simple.

The group was still chuckling as they exited the building. Charlie was telling Glenn that she’d come over the next day to check on the generators in block C. The rest of the day was spent removing the bodies and using the trucks to take them off of the prison property to be burned, something that Castiel appreciated greatly. 

Afterward, both groups worked diligently to clean sleeping quarters, showers, and the kitchen area for the Winchester group. 

When the work was finished, everyone retreated to their chosen cells for some much needed rest. Dean and Castiel had elected to share a cell in the back corner, and what they needed was far more urgent than sleep. 

Dean crowded Castiel against the wall of their cell and claimed his mouth. He moaned when Castiel’s arms came up around him and pressed close to his body. 

“Cas, Babe,” Dean whispered huskily when Castiel moved his mouth down Dean’s neck and sucked gently on his pulse point. 

“Dean, do you find me attractive?” Castiel asked as he licked the spot he just sucked. 

“What?” Dean asked when his brain caught up with the question. “Of course I do! I love you.”

“I love you too. I think you are gorgeous,” Castiel said softly. “Your eyes remind me of springtime, and I could count your freckles and never tire of it.”

“Fuck, Babe. I'm no good at this,” Dean murmured and pulled back to gaze into Castiel’s eyes. “I remember driving Sammy to Stanford for his freshman orientation. It was the first time we had ever been to the Pacific Ocean before, and I remember standing there with my abnormally tall brother in awe of the ocean. The clarity, the vastness, the insane azure color.” Dean paused and took an audible breath before he could continue. “Your eyes remind me of that,” he whispered. “So open and clear and kind. And so very blue. I love you, Castiel, in part because of our soul thing, but also because you are so beautiful. I look at you and I get weak in the knees. I can't wait to explore every inch of what's under your trench coat.”

Dean shuddered at his own words, and Castiel quickly shed the coat and laid it on a chair they had found earlier, and stood by the bed in his jeans and t-shirt. He sat on their bed and removed his shoes. Dean stood staring, unsure of what was happening. Castiel looked up at Dean through his eyelashes and asked, “Are you going to remove your clothing, Dean?”

“What are you doing?”

“Getting undressed. We are finally going to express our love physically, correct?” When Dean only nodded silently, he added, “Close your eyes and focus inward. Can you feel that?”

Dean closed his eyes and his lips unconsciously lifted in a lopsided smile. “The thrumming? Like someone released a hummingbird in my chest?”

“Good, it’s not just me. Our souls yearn for each other. Come here, Dean. Take off your shirt and lay down.” 

Dean watched as Castiel grasped the hem of his own shirt and pulled it off. Dean’s breath hitched and he did as he was told. He also removed his soft and faded jeans as well. Castiel straddled his hips and laid his naked chest on top of Dean’s, nuzzling his neck. 

“Jesus fuck, Castiel,” Dean moaned as he arched his back and brought their chests together to create a warm, blissful friction. 

Castiel's hand ran across his chest and inched lower down Dean’s rock hard abdominal muscles until he reached the waistband of his boxer briefs. He teased the trail of hair that lead to his prize, and then Castiel just went for it. His hand delved into Dean’s underwear and grasped his throbbing cock.

“Fuck!” Dean gasped as he tilted his hips so Castiel had a better angle. Dean’s hand moved to push his underwear out of the way and free his straining cock. Once liberated, he began pushing at Castiel's clothing. “Less clothes, Cas,” Dean panted. 

“Of course, Dean,” he said as he sat up on his haunches and lifted his hips to move the offending fabric out of the way. Once Castiel’s cock sprang free, Dean sat up and grasped it. 

It was awkward and awesome all at the same time. They started pumping each other as their mouths collided in a messy and bruising kiss. Dean was the first to see stars as he fell backwards onto the bed and shot white hot spunk across his and Castiel's chest. He watched as Castiel grasped his own cock and pumped himself once-twice-three times and joined Dean in ecstasy. He collapsed on top of Dean and the man’s arms came around Castiel, pulling him close. 

“Wow,” Dean breathed. 

“Imagine what it will be like when our bodies eventually join, Dean,” Castiel whispered roughly and his warm breath on the shell of Dean’s ear caused Dean to whimper. “Now that there is time enough for exploration.” Castiel went to lift himself off Dean’s body leaving Dean to ponder their near future. 

Dean whimpered involuntarily in protest as Castiel moved himself off. “Hopefully we will be able to last longer. Savor it. I feel like a goddamn teenager again, shooting my load after thirty seconds.”

“It is our souls, Dean. It amplifies the sensations while our bodies are in contact with one another. We will build up our stamina,” Castiel said as he kissed Dean lightly. “Now come, it’s late. Hopefully the showers are free.”

As it turned out, the showers were free. Dean and Castiel squeezed into one stall, to conserve water of course, and got completely clean- then dirty- then clean again. 

Afterwards, they collapsed into their bed and slept peacefully for the first time in years. 

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for the next installment!


End file.
